


Set My Skin on Fire

by bellarkegriffin_blake



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Body Image, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, bellamy helps her out, clarke doesn't like her body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 09:29:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20444912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellarkegriffin_blake/pseuds/bellarkegriffin_blake
Summary: “If that were true, then why has nobody ever touched me the way you did? Why hasn’t anybody ever shown any interest in me?”“I wish I could explain it idiocy of people, but that would take both of our lifetimes put together.” That makes Clarke laugh, which, in turn, makes Bellamy smile. “No matter what anyone says, every person of shape, size, color, what have you, deserves to be loved. Don’t forget that.”ORClarke hates her body and Bellamy helps her realize that size doesn't matter.





	Set My Skin on Fire

**Author's Note:**

> So this was kind of hard to write because it's very personal for me. The things that happen to Clarke didn't happen to me, but the feelings she has are mostly how I have viewed myself for many years. I try so hard to get past my weight, but it's not something easily forgotten. Anyways, I hope you enjoy.

Clarke looks at herself in the mirror and sighs. She eyes her oversized stomach and plump thighs and tries to come up with a reason not to go tonight. It may be just a get together with her closest friends, but it’s nerve wracking all the same. She can never stop thinking how the girls secretly despise her because she isn’t as small or beautiful as they are. But that’s crazy, right? They are her best friends. 

When she arrives, everyone is already a few drinks in. Murphy and Emori, Lincoln and Octavia, Harper and Monty, Miller and Jackson, and Raven and Shaw of course, are crowded into the small living room. She looks around to find the source of the alcohol, but she finds Bellamy leaning against the wall on the outskirts of the group. He doesn’t seem to be joining in, but he is close enough to hear what is happening. And what is happening right now is everyone loudly asking each other personally invasive questions. She knew she shouldn’t have come. How many new questions can they ask after three years of knowing each other and not know the answer to? 

“Okay, okay, okay,” Murphy slurs. He has had quite a few more drinks than necessary already. “My first kiss was in ninth grade. She was beautiful and all I wanted was to kiss her.” 

“Not date, just kiss?” Emori asks with an arched brow. 

He laughs in response. “I thought she wanted to go out with me but turned out all she wanted was experience for her newer, hotter boyfriend.” 

“Aw, babe. There is no one hotter than you,” and Emori kisses his temple as he takes another big swig of his beer. 

“Okay, Clarke,” Raven says. “Your turn. What was it like, your first kiss?” Well there is no way she is truthfully answering that question, so she has to think fast. 

“Tenth grade, girl named Lexa. Two weeks later, she dumped me for another girl.” She doesn’t say it with any emotion. She just hopes it gets the rest of them to move on. 

And it does. 

They go on asking their questions and drinking their drinks. Clarke backs away to get another beer when Murphy practically yells, “Bellamy pleases every woman he’s with!” 

Bellamy almost spits out the beer in his mouth. The tips of his ears look sunburned and his cheeks eventually match. “Why would you say that, Murphy?” he asks. He doesn’t sound particularly mad but definitely embarrassed. 

“Oh, come on, dude. Are you denying it?” 

“I mean, not that it’s anybody’s business,” he looks around the room. “But I happen to have very good luck in that department.” 

Clarke can only imagine having a guy like Bellamy want to be with her. It’s been years since anyone has thought of her like that. But there is no way that could happen. Not the way she is. The group goes on talking and she sits back and listening; only responding when spoken directly to. 

“You okay?” a voice asks her from behind. She turns to see Bellamy standing a foot from her. 

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“You seem...withdrawn is all.” 

Out of everyone here tonight, Bellamy is the one she sees the least of. The one who shouldn’t know what Clarke withdrawing looks like. But he does. What does that mean? 

“I’m just tired. I’m probably going to leave pretty soon anyways,” she huffs. 

“I’m leaving now, unfortunately. I have to work early.” And then he slips out the before anyone else can give him shit for leaving before drinking more than three drinks. But something Murphy said sticks in her mind. _Bellamy pleases any girl he’s with_. So she gets an idea. An hour later, she downs another beer and sneaks out just like he had.

Clarke heads straight towards his apartment. She wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t what Murphy said tonight. That and the liquid courage she has consumed. She takes a deep breath and quietly knocks on the fake wood. She somehow hears the soft footsteps over the blood pounding in her ears. 

“Oh, hey Clarke,” Bellamy says. He is wearing only sweatpants, which shows off his chiseled chest and toned abs. Heat spreads from here core outwards. Unfortunately, that heat makes her neck and cheeks turn a bright red that she is unable to hide. 

“I, uh, need your...help?” God, she sounds like an idiot. This was a bad idea. A very, very bad one. But she wasn’t backing down. The alcohol won’t let her, and neither will the desire she holds in her heart. 

“What’s up?” He looks confused, but he steps aside to let her in the door anyways. She walks through and takes in the semi-familiar surroundings. She has been there a couple times, usually when she was with Octavia picking up or dropping off something. The small studio hasn’t changed a bit. There are no dishes in the sink, no dirty clothes anywhere (except the hamper where they belong), and no garbage littering the floor. Not what one would think of a typical single man’s home. 

Clarke sits on the edge of his bed. Her palms are sweaty, and she is having a hard time finding the right words. She tries not to focus on the way her stomach lays or how big her thighs are when they are against the bed. She doesn’t know how to start, so she blurts something out on a sudden exhale. 

“I want to be touched again...” 

She is scared to look, but she imagines a look of pure disgust on his face. Why did she think he would ever put his hands on her oversized body? Nobody else wants to. 

“I’m sorry, you want what?” His voice starts gravelly but ends on a high note. Finally, with the courage to look at his face, she lifts her eyes to his. Well, tries to, anyways. He is still standing in the exact spot he was, but his hand was rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment with his gaze glued to the ground in front of him. He can’t even look at her. 

“Never mind, I’m going to go now. Sorry. Can we forget this happened?” She stands to leave, but he steps in front of her. 

“Wait, wait. Just explain.” He guides her back down on his mattress, but she isn’t looking at him. She feels the dip of his weight next to her, and he is sitting unusually close. It makes her heart skip a beat; something it hasn’t done for a long time. Tears are on the verge of falling, but she holds them back for now. 

Clarke has dreaded reliving this time of her life, but he deserves an explanation for this unthinkable request of hers. 

“It started in high school when I lost my dad. The depression settled in and my mom was no help. She was so lost herself that she couldn’t even see how I was suffering. I didn’t get out of bed until the school called mom to tell her I wasn’t showing up. They ‘understood’ they had said, but it was going to become a problem if I didn’t start coming back.” 

“Then the eating started. Whenever I felt alone, which was most of the time, the only thing that would fight the loneliness was the food I ate. I tried talking to friends, but no one was interested in how I felt. There was no use trying to talk to mom. So I ate my feelings. I gained weight like crazy and everyone noticed. I became ‘the fat girl’ that no one would leave alone and was constantly joking about.” 

“I’m sorry that happened, Clarke.” Bellamy’s gruff whisper sounds so sincere in her ear. No, that has to be pity. He can’t actually care; nobody else did. But what else would be rooting her to this spot next to him? 

“Then Cage asked me out. He used all the right words and made me feel slightly less shitty. He was nice and never made fun of my weight or the rolls on my waist. Two weeks into our dating, I would never refer to it as a relationship, he kissed me right on the mouth while we were standing at his locker. I felt like I had won the lottery. Until I heard the muffled snickers and saw the phones aimed straight at us. As soon as the kiss was over, he left me to join his gang and never talked to me again. The next day it was all over the school. I was mortified.” 

“I wish I was there. I would have killed him right there in the hallway,” he growls. She can feel the anger radiating off of him. Instead of asking why he is so mad, she continues. 

“The next time it happened was with Finn. I thought he would be different. He talked to me about how awful Cage was and he let me talk about all my pent-up sadness about my dad. I cried on his shoulder more times than I could count. When he asked me to the homecoming dance, I was elated. I finally found a reason to be happy again. I got to go dress shopping, which was harder than I remembered because of my bigger size, but it was still fun.” 

“When the dance came along, I almost felt normal again. I talked to my old friends and everything seemed to be going alright. Then during one of the slow songs, when he and I were dancing, I felt a hand grab as much of my fat as it could. I turned to see who it was, but I found it was Finn’s hand. This whole time he was just like Cage and I was so blind. I was so desperate to feel normal again that I ignored the possibility that I was being played.” 

For once, between segments, he stays silent. The only communication she gets is the sad look in his eyes. 

“I was done after that. I withdrew more than ever and practically ran out of the house when it came time for college. You know most of the story after that. I met Octavia in class, and she introduced me to all of you. The point of this story is I haven’t felt another intimate touch for at least five years. I have lost most of the depression weight, but I haven’t trusted another person in that way since then. I’m tired of it, but I realize now that this was a stupid thing to ask you of. I mean, you can’t possibly want to.” She tries to find something interesting on the wall by the door to look at. 

Her breath stops when his thumb grazes her chin to make her eyes meet his. “What do you need?” 

“I should just go. I had no right asking you to do this.” 

“Then why tell me the story? Why take the time to explain why you came instead of making up a shitty reason to leave in the first place?” 

“Well, I blurted that I wanted to be touched. I figured explaining why would be better than leaving right away. At least now you know.” 

“Stay. Tell me what you want me to do.” His face is inches away from hers. She wants him to trail his fingers over her body. She wants to feel the warmth of his palms on her stomach. She wants to feel _normal_ again. Sure, she has been keeping her head above water since college started and she met all her new friends, but this piece of her life needs to be filled. 

“I don’t want any commitment. Nothing, no strings. All I want is to feel what it’s like to have hands on my skin again.” 

He trails his index finger over her cheek and down her neck, stopping at her collar bone. Clarke closes her eyes in response and waits for him to make his next move. 

Bellamy leans in and whispers, “Lay back.” 

She does what he says and tries to ignore her stomach flattening against the sheets or her saggy breasts rolling to her sides as far as her bra allows. What the hell is she doing? And why was he agreeing to it? 

She turns her head to see him laying right next to her, head propped on one hand. The heat from his body seeps into her and that’s all she feels for a moment; her side burning through her shirt where his body touches hers. While she is so distracted by his face, he takes a finger to the hem of her shirt and slowly drags it up. With each inch of exposed skin, her cheeks go a shade darker. She looks the other way as he stops just under her bra. A single tear falls down to the bed, and she hopes he doesn’t see it happen. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks gently. His fingertip stays where it is, though. 

“How are you not repulsed by me? My body is gross!” A few more tears escape at the exclamation. 

“Neither you or your body is gross,” he starts and lays his entire hand on her pale stomach. “You are beautiful, inside and out. Nothing changes that, especially not how big you are.” 

She looks at him in awe. Nobody has ever said anything like this to her before. She expects to find him looking into her eyes, but he is instead looking lower. Slowly, he closes the space between them, and she feels their lips meet. 

Clarke is shocked, but at the same time wants more. She deepens the kiss and arches her back into him. It’s an action that scares the shit out of her, but this feels different than in the past. There isn’t the pressure of waiting for the other shoe to drop. It doesn’t seem like the other shoe exists. 

Bellamy moves from her lips and trails kisses down to her collar bone. His hands never stop moving over her skin, but they never stray to anywhere but her torso; all under her shirt. She is grateful for that. When his fingers brush the clasp of her bra, she springs back, not missing the confused look he gives her. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just...I don’t know if I...” She can’t seem to find the right words. 

“It’s okay. I totally get it. If you aren’t ready to go that far, it’s alright.” He withdraws his hand from under her shirt and caresses her cheek. “What those assholes did to you scarred you. I hate that they did it to you because you didn’t deserve it. It’s okay to feel untrustworthy. But what you shouldn’t feel, what I hope you never feel again, is unlovable.” 

“Bellamy, you don’t have to--” she mumbles. 

“You need to hear this. You will never be unlovable or undeserved by anyone. No matter your size, no matter how you look, someone will find you. Someone will be the luckiest person in the world to be with you. And who knows?” He looks so deeply into her eyes that she feels like he found her soul. “Maybe someone already feels that way.” 

She lays there, bewildered. “Are you saying what I think you are?” 

“Clarke, I have never thought any different of you because of your size. You know why? Because your personality, your intelligence, your love for your friends; it all overshadows that one detail. I’m not saying that how you feel about yourself should be ignored. I just wish you could see how you have people that care for you despite how you look.” 

“If that were true, then why has nobody ever touched me the way you did? Why hasn’t anybody ever shown any interest in me?” 

“I wish I could explain it idiocy of people, but that would take both of our lifetimes put together.” That makes Clarke laugh, which, in turn, makes Bellamy smile. “No matter what anyone says, every person of shape, size, color, what have you, deserves to be loved. Don’t forget that.” 

Next thing she knows, her hands are around his waist and she pulls herself to his chest. His strong arms only take two seconds to return the embrace. 

“Thank you, Bellamy.” Her words are slightly muffled due to her cheek against his skin. This contact is exactly what she needed. “I know this was an odd request, but I’m so glad you were willing to do it.” 

He pulled back a bit so he could look her in the eyes again. “Truth? I have wanted this for a while. At first, you were just another friend Octavia brought home once in a while. But then you were always over. Me and O were living together and as time went on, I was glad. Because I got to see you. Then she moved in with Lincoln and I couldn’t afford that apartment by myself, so I moved here and barely saw you anymore. Having you in my arms right now is a dream come true.” 

Instead of responding, she tucked herself back into his body. A few hours later (after talking, a little crying, and a lot more kissing), Clarke goes to leave. 

“I guess I will see you around,” she says while swinging the door open. She tries to contain the smile on her face, but her facial muscles have different ideas. She takes one step out the door before she hears his voice again. 

“Hey, Clarke?” She pops her head back in. “Maybe we could do this again? Maybe something more like a date?” 

She hesitates, but not because she doesn’t know what to say, but because this is a moment she never envisioned herself being in. She finally tells him, “I’d love that,” and walks out the door again. 

Clarke has always seen her weight as a problem. After both guys in high school ruined her self esteem, she vowed to never let anyone in again. But that could only go for so long. She needed human contact. She can’t believe she did what she just did with Bellamy, but there is no way she would ever change it. For the first time in a long time, she feels like she deserves love. She finally feels worth something to someone. That is all she could ever ask for right now.

**Author's Note:**

> To everyone who has had thoughts or negative body image issues, don't worry. Someone will find you and they will love you. They will be your Bellamy; they won't care about your size, shape, or whatever shortcoming you feel you have. There is someone out there for you. <3 <3 <3


End file.
